


Burn Them, Wade

by SenkoWakimarin



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 17:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenkoWakimarin/pseuds/SenkoWakimarin
Summary: This was not an unusual arrangement.





	Burn Them, Wade

Wade had been holed up since Nate had gotten back to the apartment, oh, twelve hours ago. This was not an unusual arrangement, especially if Wade was in one of his low moods. He’d slink out when he was hungry, and he’d talk to Nate when he was ready.

It’s only when Nate decided to cook himself something that he really thinks much about the silence. And the fact that the knife block is missing from the kitchen.

“Wade?” He calls, not exactly concerned until he steps down the hall and smells the distinct butchery stench that’s rising from Wade’s room. It wasn’t uncommon for the apartment -- especially Wade’s spaces -- to smell like blood, because the jackass couldn’t keep a space clean to save his life. 

It’s safer to focus on that irritation than to let himself actually worry about Wade, so Nate fastens onto that as his fist slams into Wade’s shut door. 

“Heeeey, pookiebear,” comes Wade’s voice, muffled, a little strained. The immediate fear that he’s gotten himself killed wanes. “You home already? I hardly noticed you’d left.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Ha, just kidding, I’ve literally been counting the minutes, but then I got distracted. Uh, maybe don’t come in?”

“Where the fuck are the knives, shithead?”

A pause, and then Nate can  _hear_  the grin in Wade’s voice, regrets asking immediately. Certainly regrets that he knows he can’t back out now.

“Okaaay, you twisted my arm. Step into my den of inequity and I’ll  _show_  you.”

Nate knows that tone. This is far from the first time Wade’s shown Nate something grotesque or weird, but it  _is_  the first time he’s gotten that tone in their own home, and Nate definitely doesn’t want to open the flimsy ‘can’t-even-muffle-the-quietest-masturbation-session’ plywood door, but he  _has_ to. 

“ _Jesus_  Christ.”

Wade  _leers_  at him from where he’s sitting, knife in one hand, cock in the other. That would be disturbing enough, but for the fact that there’s cocks just... everywhere. They’re all Wade’s, the mottled, scarred texture assures him of that, but there are  _so many_. 

“I’m thinking of making you a bouquet when I’m done,” Wade says, and then laughs when Nate steps gingerly across the room and yanks the knife out of his hand. 

“What the  _fuck,_ Wilson?”

Laughter, but now it’s edged with uncertainty, and he regrets his tone and his choice of names. “Oh, last name basis, I really stepped in it this time, huh?”

He sighs, but doesn’t move from where he stands over Wade, glaring at him until the man shifts uncomfortably. 

“Okay so you know how when you shave your legs, the hair’s supposed to grow back except it’s thicker?”

Nate sighs and buries his face in his hand. “No. No I don’t, but I think I can see where you’re going.”

“Exactly, so like any right thinking guy, I figured, what would make my extremely hot and wonderful boyfriend happy? Me having a thicker, bigger dick was the obvious answer, cuz I know you love Little Wade as he is but I’ve seen the guns you handle, I know you’re a size queen and --”

“Wade there’s twenty-seven --  _twenty. Seven._  --  variations of your dick laying around this room.”

“Twenty  _eight_ , actually, trust me I know _.”_

Another sigh, Nate clutching the knife and shaking his head. “Wade. This is  _excessively_  stupid. Even for you.”

“Well, it wasn’t  _working_ , Nate!”

“So you should have  _stopped_.”

“I ain’t no quitter!”

“Jesus  _Christ_.”

“You know, you can’t become him just by saying his name a bunch.”

“ _Wade_.”

“Or me, either. Though it would be hilarious if you did, a real fuck you to you. Kind’ve a fuck you to me too, though, cuz then I’d have to deal with another  _me_  running around and  _that’d_  be fun for like, one issue.”

Nate closes his eyes, calming himself as Wade babbles on about how bad the jokes would get, and at what speed, a sort of calculus of bad jokes. When he speaks again, Wade graciously shuts up so he can hear him. 

“What do I have to say to convince you that you’re just fine the way you are, and that repeating this stunt is inadvisable?”

Wade’s whole face lit up. “Aw,  _babe_ , you’re such a sap! I knew you loved me.”

“The fact that the words ‘I’ and ‘love’ and ‘you’ have been explicitly strung together to form that message didn’t do the trick though, huh?” Nate looks around the room, until he spots the rest of the knife block, tossed carelessly on Wade’s filthy bed. He’d have to bleach the set to disinfect them. An autoclave would be better. He leans over Wade, hip-checking his shoulder, and grabs the knife block, pulling away before Wade can palm his ass. “Clean your mess up. I’m making dinner.”

“You sure you don’t want a keepsake?” Wade asks, holding up a severed penis and bouncing it in his hand. 

“ _Burn them_ , Wade.”


End file.
